


Andalusian Paradise

by tricksterofhearts



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anthology, Historical Romance, Jkjk, M/M, like majorly alternate universe, there will be sex minors avert thine eyes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 12:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13589829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricksterofhearts/pseuds/tricksterofhearts
Summary: Set during the time of the Córdoba caliphate, when Muslims ruled most of Spain and Portugal. Sinbad is the caliph of Córdoba, and spends his days tending to the needs of his people in a rich paradise that allows for trade to flourish, and encouraging intellectual thoughts and educational deeds; but his nights are spent in a haze of passion and never ending love with someone no one expects or thinks.And it's his vizier Ja'far.Just as a heads up, this IS an anthology, meaning its a collection of different chapters that will not follow a linear pattern~!MAJOR WARNING: This IS set in a past time period, mentions of slavery will be in this! Sinbad himself is shown not a fan of slavery in the show, and keeping with this,he finds it distasteful in the fanfic (and as a result, all of the servants he has are paid for their work) but slavery was standard for most of the world at one point. It is a historical fact and I am not anything but true to my sources. There are also hints of possible sexual assault and mentions of kidnapping. You HAVE been warned.





	Andalusian Paradise

Córdoba was a riot of color in the early spring.

The screeching of birds reached Sinbad in his rooms, which opened up to a garden where flowers of every kind in the known world grew, but was mainly inhabited by orange trees, their blossoms newly opened. The sound of song birds was something that always awoke him early in the mornings, and the scent of orange blossoms was the first thing he would smell…..

…. if he didn’t have an armful of Ja’far in his bed. Head firmly under Sinbad’s chin, his fluffy white-blond hair gave off the scent of Persian roses, delicious in his sleepy delirium. Sinbad held him tighter, squeezing his eyes shut against the sun seeping through the silk draperies and just enjoying the coolness of the air on his skin and the warmth of the man in his arms.

He was never disturbed this early in the morning, since it was known his vizier woke him when needed - but it wasn’t known that their rooms connected to each other, and that they always spent nights together. 

Sinbad savored the reverie of the early morning, knowing soon Ja’far would stir and get him started on his day. The sun normally woke him - the rays touching his cheek, warmth waking him from the land of Morpheus, known as the Greek god of dreams and sleep.

“Mmmph.” and he woke, his eyes opening and stunning Sinbad with their beauty. Ja’far had the coloring of people far north of his warm, subtropical home, and it always surprised Sinbad with how pretty he was. But he was also extremely smart.

“Morning, my love.” Sinbad tipped Ja’far’s head up, placing a soft kiss on his lips. He sighed softly, kissing back with warmth and sleepy affection, arms unintentionally slipping up around his lover’s neck and pulling him close, much to Sinbad’s delight. A sleepy Ja’far was an extremely affectionate Ja’far, something that Sinbad absolutely adored - no reservations, tossing all the caution he could out the window. 

“G’morning.” he yawned when he pulled away from the kiss. “’s sunrise, isn’t it?” Ja’far was struggling to blink the sleep from his eyes, to wake up more fully. The sunlight was shining more brightly through the curtains, casting jewel colors across the white and black marble of the room; and upon the thick carpets that covered parts of the floors. The room was large, bronze, gold and silver lamps hanging high and low on the ceilings, some with scented oil and others without. But now they were burning low flames or completely unlit, since they had forgotten it when they had fallen into slumber the night before.

“You’re adorable when you’re sleepy.” he laughed when Ja’far had squirmed out of his grasp and smacked him with a silk pillow, the silken covers falling off his lean body and revealing it to the morning air. 

“If you were awake before me, you should have woken me up.” he glared at Sinbad. Ah, there was the Ja’far he knew and adored. 

“Mmmmm only a few moments before you, darling. I was enjoying you sleeping far too much.” there was a twinkle in his amber eyes, and Ja’far melted, realizing he couldn’t be angry at this wonderful man.

“You’re lucky there’s not much to do today. Gifts from neighboring lands and beyond is the only thing on the schedule.” Ja’far had swung his legs over the edge of the bed, stretching his body free of the rest of his nights rest. Sinbad was leaning on his arm, tracing the lines of his lover’s body before he got up totally, picking up his caftan from the floor and the loose pants that went with them. Made of emerald green silk, they were woven with shots of gold through them, and they fit Ja’far’s form perfectly.

“Get up and get in the baths, my caliph.” he turned around a spot of humor in his eyes, but is face dead serious. “Don’t want to keep them waiting,hm?”

Sinbad laughed. “Yes my most dutiful vizier. But at a cost.” Moving swiftly from his laying position, grabbing his wrist and pulling him close. The breath left Ja’far for a brief time as he was held against Sinbad, and kissed so thoroughly that he felt like the air was suspended in his body.

Pulling away, Sinbad noticed that there was a soft, dreamy look in the smaller man’s eyes, and he grinned.

“Now, I’ll let you go.” There was a purr to Sin’s voice, and obvious pleasure in his aura over the warmth that suffused Ja’far’s body at that moment.

Huffing, Ja’far scuttled away, to quickly find the clothing Sinbad would wear that day. Ja’far had taken on the duties of a servant as well, so nothing would disturb their early morning schedule; a body servant would gossip about it. No one knew that Sinbad didn’t have one, and Ja’far was glad to keep it that way. The baths Sinbad used were connected to his suite of rooms within al-Rusafa, and most didn’t see him until after he was dressed. 

Ja’far had stepped into the steamy interior of his and Sinbad’s private bath, the tiles warm to his bare feet and the steam hitting him even before he actually came in. Tiled in blue and white, there were frescoes in the Roman style of various landscapes and flowers, mainly in gold or brilliant turquoise.

Here there was glass - either stained or clear, looking over the garden that was the center of the caliph’s part of the palace, the deep pool in the middle of it reflecting sunlight into the bathing room. 

“Please tell me you’re not lazing about.” Ja’far had hurried to an enclave in the wall, hands going to various soaps and oils to cleanse himself quickly with warm, running water and to rid some of his muscles of ache. A warm laugh was the response Ja’far got.

“I’m clean, I’m clean, find me in the bathing pool when you’re done. I’ll relax a little before I start my hectic day.” Ja’far had peered over and found that Sinbad had wrapped his long hair up and out of the water, so it wouldn’t go all over the place.

With one more warm water rinse, Ja’far had stepped out, and he walked over to the warm water pool Sinbad was currently relaxing in. 

“Come now, Sin, you need to get o-” he was cut off by Sinbad pulling him in, an ungraceful splash echoing around the room.

Ja’far sputtered his anger, coming up out of the water with a look of an outraged kitten. “Sinbad!” he growled, and the older man grinned.

“I thought you’d need a soak, especially after last night.” he grinned at Ja’far’s blush - and it had nothing to do with the warmth of the chamber.

“Get out, you ass.” Ja’far muttered, trying and failing to not give him any satisfaction in his embarrassed state. He was the only person that ever spoke to Sinbad in that manner - well, in private at least. 

It was some time before Sinbad was able to make his appearance in the morning, Ja’far huffing and making sure there wasn’t a thread or spot of silk out of place; rich Byzantine purple colored robes with accents of brilliant gold, hints of dark red and some green complimented the costume he favored. 

Preceding him outside (and leaving from the door in his chambers instead of Sinbad’s), Ja’far had waved everyone away so Sinbad could actually leave his chambers. He stifled a grin at how prim and proper he became outside of their chambers - but what did he expect?

Sinbad caught sight of a large crowd gathering outside the palace through the windows, and he internally wondered what would happen today. Not only was he to receive dignitaries from various nations, there were court cases high enough for him to hear as well, and other state matters. He was concerned for the welfare of his people after all, and the best way to help them was to be personally involved in all government goings on. He wasn’t a lazy ruler as a law, since many countries had been ruined by those who cared not for their people. 

“My lord?” Ja’far asked quietly, and Sinbad was briefly woken from his daydreams. 

“Ah, I am sorry. I just noticed…. there are many common people among the crowd today. Normally only a few and beggars are the norm….”

“There’s something important today. A court case against a man named Jamil…. according to what I’ve read, he was the reason for a string of women going missing only to turn up in markets far to the east of here. He was caught kidnapping a sixteen year old maiden from her father’s garden after posing as a guard for him. As many as twenty five women went missing over a three month period.”

Sinbad frowned. “Why wasn’t I told of this?”

“It was only brought to light recently, your grace.” Ja’far murmured. “Unfortunately there isn’t a way to track the women involved…. and they were taken from all sorts of homes, not just the wealthy, and girls as young as thirteen were taken too.” 

“If he had any other people involved, find a way to get the information out of them. We can’t find all of them, but maybe we can buy back any that were’t sold yet.” His voice was hard. “He won’t escape with his life, since he destroyed so many others.” Sinbad was angry something like this happened in the country he ruled over.

It wasn’t long before dignitary after dignitary was presented, and Sinbad lost count of the things shown before him…. and it was a dazed blur, with automatic responses from his lips. Ja’far could tell his energetic lord was getting bored with just sitting there after things were presented to him. Sitting cross legged on a dais strewn with cushions and rugs, he imposed a magnificent presence in the room, which was larger than most see in their life time; and it was dim since there were few windows, one circular one above where Sinbad sat, but the rest of the room was lit by lamps either hanging or standing everywhere. 

It wasn’t until he caught a gleam of honey blond hair he was interested. The next person had a familiar look about him, almost as if he had seen him somewhere before.

And Sinbad realized it.

“Prince Alibaba of Baghdad, son of their most gracious ruler, Caliph Harun al-Rashid.” Known as simply Rashid to Sinbad (since he had met him under an alias when traveling in the Byzantine Empire), he had always talked volumes about his youngest son, but he never expected to meet the boy in person. His features were striking - Sinbad had only ever met Rashid, never any of the ladies from his harem, obviously, as it was a violation of conduct. 

The young man had kneeled down on the floor before Sinbad’s dais, head down in a polite gesture of greeting. Behind him were various gifts from Baghdad, less of a tribute and more of a gift from one friend to another. He smiled, realizing he preferred these things the most over the rest.

“I bring you my father’s regards, my lord. He would have come himself but his health hasn’t been the best as of late.” he looked up with shimmering eyes, nervousness showing through.

“Son of one of my dear friends, I welcome you to Córdoba.” he smiled with a genuine warm welcome, his hand waving for him to come closer than the others had. He was definitely Rashid’s child, though much prettier. He looked no older than seventeen, and his voice had the crack of a youth just becoming a man. He seemed stiff, almost nervous, a flush on his sun-darkened cheeks.

“You’re the last of them, eh?” Sinbad said as he motioned for Alibaba to sit next to the platform where he himself sat, a cushion softening the marble steps.

“I’m sorry, my lord, we had some - er. Issues and needed to fix them.” he looked embarrassed. “We got here late since some of the horses got spooked and ran off.”

“No worries, no worries, tell me of your father, is he very ill?” there was concern in his voice, but not showing anywhere else. The slightest sign of distress on his face wouldn’t be very majestic.

“Last I remember, it was a faint illness and should be gone by now, but he wasn’t feeling well enough to depart with us.” Alibaba responded politely. He was very stiff, feeling like he was out of place next to his father’s friend, whom he had only heard of through Rashid’s stories of Sinbad’s adventures in Baghdad and Persia. Sinbad had been the son of a younger son, and it was an accident of fate that placed him as the caliph of Al-Andalus, and as such he had traveled far and wide throughout the Persian empire and and traveled as far as Cathay; as such, he was tinged with a sort of apprehension.

Sinbad smiled. “I’m relieved that it is nothing serious, your highness. Rashid is rather important to me and the caliphate at large, since he’s helped bring so much peace between the warring fractions of his land, and helping trade flourish. I assume he sent you to learn from me, since learning different forms of ruling from different people is best, I have found.” Rashid had often wrote of how he planned on making Alibaba the ruler of his land verses the corrupt, spoiled sons his first wife gave him. He tried sending his first two sons to learn, but… their stays were gratefully short.

“Your grace?” Ja’far murmured. “Court hearings are happening now. We only have three cases to judge and ah….”

“That one is first.” he finished Ja’far’s sentence. His smile grew hard, sharper than a blade of Damascus steel. “You’ll get to witness something interesting today.”

“Bring the accused in for judgement.” 

————————————————————————————————

Sunset had descended upon Córdoba that night, bringing a blanket of stars over the city - but no one slept, as evidenced by the sounds of merriment throughout the buildings.

The palace itself was awash with brightly colored lanterns, colors scattering in a rainbow across walls and floors, music winding through the corridors of the public parts.

Alibaba was out of place among it all. Though raised in the palace back home, until his mother died not long ago, he had lived rather simply - almost in a military fashion as to not spoil him like his older brothers were by their own mother. Raised to be loyal only to his father, and none of the court fractions, he was rather lonely for his age with no friends back home.

Maybe that’s why he wanted to leave - to see if he could find things in the world before he had to go back. Andalusia was a sight to behold, and even though his home had gardens that were beyond lovely, he had to admit that there was some flora he didn’t recognize here in the gardens of al-Rusafa.

“You’re deep in thought.” Sinbad’s voice startled Alibaba out of his thoughts, and he twirled around with a rose color staining his tanned skin.

“N-not really. I’m just…. Overwhelmed is all.” Alibaba cast his eyes somewhere else.

“You haven’t been far from home before, have you? Homesick, perchance?” Sinbad had sat across from where Alibaba was, to have a friendly conversation with the boy. As a friend of his father’s (and despite how near in age they were - Sinbad only being twenty eight to Alibaba’s seventeen) Sinbad almost took it upon himself to be a father or uncle figure to him. Sinbad was normally conscious of his age, but not in this instance.

It seemed like Alibaba needed someone.

“Not homesick…. Maybe if my mother was home. The only thing I miss is my father. I don’t have any friends my age and - I’m terribly sorry I shouldn’t be bothering you with this…..”

“Nonsense. I extend my friendship to you as well, not just your father who is one of my dearest friends.” He had a charming, disarming smile on his face, one that bespoke nothing but the utmost respect for Alibaba. It was surprising, since not many interacted with him on a personal level aside from Rashid. 

He was a little startled by it too. “Thank you.” his voice was soft, almost too soft for anyone to hear. He was glad for the gradual darkening of the garden that forced them inside, though away from others so they could keep a form of privacy while they spoke. Alibaba was surprised by how easy Sinbad was with people, considering he was a ruler after all, but it calmed Alibaba’s fears and notions of him causing problems. He explained all the things that had gone on in his life; his mother’s forced exile for them both - and his lack of charisma where people were involved.

“The letter your father wrote me asked to keep you here for a year. I’ll take it your education hasn’t been too diverse in some topics due to your mother, however I am startled you can speak Romance* and understand how we all speak.”

“I learned from the letters you and my father exchanged after my mother died and I started living near him.” he surprised Sinbad with that sentence. “I could pick together what I could and started writing it myself…. and well, my father picked my lessons up from there. I was worried my speech is too formal… And it was the only lessons I got besides court etiquette and sword fighting.”

“A little, but you’re doing wonderfully. You’re in a wonderful place for learning. You speak Arabic so soon we’ll start you in on poetry and prose, history and science.”

Ja’far had come up behind them while they spoke, and he smiled. He hadn’t seen Sinbad this excited in a while (about a project, to say the least) so he was more than happy to help in the coming days. And he would admit, he had a soft spot for the young boy who was opening up to Sinbad.

“My lord?” his tone was soft. Sinbad had been so caught up in speaking with the prince that he had failed to notice the quarter moon rising in the sky, and the eventual toning down of music, sounds of merriment and people.

“It’s rather late, and I think lord Alibaba is rather tired….”

“Ah, forgive me my friend, sometimes I forget not everyone has my energy. Some nights I might not sleep but a few hours.” he smiled. “Your rooms should be ready by now, and if you ever need anything….”

“I’ll be alright.” his tone was less formal now, and warm. “I think I just need a good nights sleep.” 

“I’ll escort him to his rooms, unless you want me to…” Ja’far asked.

“No, no, I would be a poor ruler if I couldn’t make it back to my own rooms, Ja’far. Goodnight, and I’ll see you shortly after midmorning tomorrow.” he smiled, seeing Ja’far’s back disappear into the dim corridor with Alibaba, and he heard their own soft laughter.

It had been a while since a visitor had caused this much stir - he could see Rashid’s hand in pushing them together. Sinbad was a person that could easily educate Alibaba in the known world - his hands extended throughout the Iberian Peninsula, and North Africa gave their allegiance to them. Even Christian kings sent rich and varied gifts to the capital city of Andalusia. His friend was still far too busy between the west and the east, and Sinbad was more than glad to help.

Wandering the palace, he found his own way back to his rooms, guards stationed outside them - both from his personal guard, who came from the far Nordic regions of Europe, strong and sure in their loyalty to him.

“Goodnight, my lord, pleasant dreams.” they both nodded and opened up the rooms for him, and he smiled.

“Goodnight.” Sinbad had stepped into his rooms, bright up with lights and candles all around. 

Somehow, he knew Ja’far had come in before him - he could be quick when he wanted to.

“Sin.” came the soft, warm tone, and he laughed when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. Hands quickly undid the layers of robes that covered Sinbad’s form, fingers eager for warmth and skin to skin contact - since Sinbad noticed that Ja’far was already unclothed.

“If anyone knew how eager you really were….” Sinbad had turned around and wrapped his arms firmly around his lover, delighted by the fact that his lips were soft and willing for his own.

Outside the night was warm, and had a form of heady enchantment around it - encouraging sensual delights and other forms of love.

Darkness enfolded it all in a peaceful embrace, the stars twinkling above.

————————————————————————————————–

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: “Romance” is the term for the form of Latin used by the people of Muslim Spain - there is no actual term for it, but most scholars have used this as the blanket term, since Romance means “in the Roman way” and is the base for the term “Romantic language” - aka, a Latin based language. 
> 
> Also, Jamil will get his own chapter! I promise.


End file.
